You are what you eat
by sa-shii-mi
Summary: TV reporter Ichigo Kurosaki has to host a Valentine's Day show starring the rising star of the cuisine world, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, who seems to have issues keeping his hands on his kitchen ustensils. Originally one-shot, now separated into five chapters. MATURE CONTENT!
1. As cool as a cucumber

**A/N : Was supposed to be a OS but too long. uhm nothing really happening in this chapter.**

**Warning: Mature content in later chapters, cussing, etc. NO BETA unfortunately.**

**Enjoy! **

**You are what you eat**

**Chapter One: Staying as cool as a cucumber**

Worn-out shoes shuffled across the concrete floor and skillfully avoided the miles of thick black cables littering the surface.

"Why does it have to be at 5 AM?" he grumbled between his teeth as he tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes for the twelfth time since he'd left the warm comfort of his bed.

A long yawn escaped his mouth. He was dead tired. And the worst was he knew he wouldn't be able to rest before probably long past midnight. That thought made him want to cry.

_Ah well, the downs of being a TV host, huh?_

Ichigo Kurosaki, popular and highly demanded TV host, loved his job and would trade it for nothing. Even if it meant that he'd had to behave uncharacteristically, that he'd have to be polite to everyone – even that rude and crass rock star Shirosaki – or waking up at ungodly hours. The unconventional Japanese redhead had worked too hard to achieve his dream to complain about _little_ annoying details.

"Kurosaki-kun, good morning!"

Or big ones, such as this one.

A man with sandy blond hair and emerald green eyes waved at him with his fan. The huge grin and the ridiculous outfit the producer wore every time he saw him – which was every day – already grated his nerves. Ichigo would never understand how his father's best friend could be that energetic when it was still pitch black outside.

_No wonder he and Goat Face are best friends…Birds of a feather flock together as they say. _

The redhead scoffed and as he looked up from the floor, he noticed the scruffy man smiling at him expectantly. After dragging his feet for a few more meters, Ichigo stood in front of his 'boss', stared straight in the green orbs before nodding once.

The other man's face crumbled and in mock-hurt he started wailing:

"Aw, Kurosaki-kuuuun, your scowl is really scary! You should be smiling brightly and yelling 'Good morning, my beloved Urahara-sama!'"

The younger male was already leaving, his scowl deepening even more. Sometimes, his producer and his father behaved so alike that he wondered if they weren't long lost twins. His nostrils flared when he let out a harsh breath.

_Calm down, Ichigo, calm down. Just ignore him like you have for the past three years already. Don't forget he's the one signing your pay checks._

With that thought in mind, the handsome TV personality trudged towards the dress room and make-up area.

As soon as he set down a foot in his personal room, a melodious tenor voice resounded.

"Ichigo, my dear, you've arrived!"

For the first time that morning, Ichigo let a small smile spread on his face.

"And you're already all pepped up and pretty, Szayel-darling," he chuckled.

Said man was wearing black skinny jeans and a striped long-sleeves which made his long and thin silhouette stand out. With that body and the pretty face the man had been blessed with, he could easily be a model. Ichigo was sure of it. But apparently, Szayel had been refusing offer after offer, claiming that he loved his job as a stylist, especially since it allowed him to be with the Japanese TV celebrity.

The bright pink haired stylist smirked, a tint of lust in his golden gaze, as he approached the beautiful redhead. His long fingers languidly caressed the toned shirt-clad chest of his friend before snaking around his sun-kissed neck. Then he whispered against Ichigo's lips.

"Don't say that, baby, or I might ravish you on the make-up table."

Honey-brown eyes and golden ones connected for a moment as tense silence settled in the private room. If someone had entered the room at that time, they'd think that the young men were about to have hot sex on the spot. Suddenly, twin smirks bloomed and loud laughter erupted. The sounds turned into subdued chuckles as the two men went to the clothes department of the big room.

Ichigo smiled contently as he listened to his pink haired stylist chatter about things stars carelessly told him. The redhead let slip a few comments or snorts but didn't say anything to add oil to the fire.

_Stars really forget that stylists are human beings with a functioning brain too, _he thought, shaking his head.

Szayel grasped his wrist as he led him through the rows of outfits hanging on hangers. As they walked, the stylist picked up items without even looking as he knew exactly where what was, despite the huge amount of clothes.

After trying a lot of combinations, the golden eyed male decided that Ichigo should wear a more casual outfit consisting of dark denim skinny jeans, a crisp white button-up shirt and black leather shoes. It would fit well with the theme of the special show later that day.

"So, am I good-looking enough, sugarplum?" Ichigo asked, not even unsettled by Szayel's usual critical gaze. His question took the latter out of his thoughts and the pink haired man licked his lips.

"Good enough for me, hot stuff," he winked at the Japanese male before adding, "come on, make-up's next. I don't want that goofy producer to enter my territory under the pretext that you're late." Golden orbs rolled as he thought about the obnoxious Urahara. Honestly, the man's poor taste in clothes and his lack of interest for being _clean_ was driving him mad. So much potential gone to waste.

Szayel sighed and shaking his head grabbed his current 'work' with his long fingers again, dragging the man across the place before pressing him down on a comfortable chair in front of a big mirror. Big, brown eyes looked up at him questioningly, quietly asking what was on his mind.

"No, nothing, Ichigo," he smiled before grabbing a tube of cream, covering the Japanese male's tan skin with it.

Ichigo let the other cover him in foundation silently as he thought about the day's special program. The redhead did understand the reason why they'd picked him for the show- he was popular with ladies of all ages, was nice and warm (on TV) and young. However he was lacking a big asset to be the host for a special Valentine's Day show: He was the polar opposite of romantic. And then there was the fact that –

A sigh interrupted his train of thoughts. Ichigo looked at his stylist who was faking sadness.

"Ah, Ichi-berry, you give me nothing to work with. You're too beautiful for your own good."

Ichigo let out a snort, ignoring the nickname, and let Szayel take care of his flashy orange hair.

OoooooOOOOO

Leaving the dressing room with the promise to eat lunch with his pink haired friend, Ichigo walked towards the set, reading his script for the hundredth time already. It wasn't a script he'd have to follow strictly – except for the introduction and such – but there were some sentences he was expected to say whenever he saw it fit. The TV host cringed at some of those ridiculous lines the writer Aizen had come up with.

'_I would never say this in real life_!' he thought as he came across a particularly embarrassing innuendo. A scowl was rooted deeply on his face and never stopped growing as he read the lines again and again.

He shrugged in order to release some negative energy from his shoulders, knowing that arguing with Urahara would be pointless. This was his job and if he wanted to continue doing what he loved, he'd have to just shut the fuck up and keep his complaints for himself. He was a professional, after all.

The young man walked towards the main set of today's show – which consisted of a kitchen constructed in a way that the cameras and the public could clearly see what was happening. He could see Urahara talk with the sound supervisor Ulquiorra and the camera supervisor Abarai Renji. The three men were concentrated on a sheet – probably the schedule and directions – and Ichigo could see Abarai and Ulquiorra take supplementary notes as Urahara gave them more precise details to make sure the show went on without a hitch.

When he reached them, he coughed once to make his presence known to his colleagues. Urahara and Renji looked up with the same surprised goofy expression whereas Ulquiorra just stared straight through the TV host gloomily. Again, Renji and Urahara unconsciously copied each other as they both smiled at Ichigo.

"'Sup Ichi! Damn, ya look fine in those clothes," Ichigo's burgundy haired friend said as he checked out the other. He then held a fist in the air as a greeting.

Ichigo grinned as he knocked against Renji's fist.

"Ah well, ya know, 's not my fault everything looks good on me." He chuckled as Renji licked his lips exaggeratedly.

"But you look better without clothes in my opinion," mumbled Ulquiorra in his usual depressed voice. The two redheads laughed out loud at the black haired man's comment.

Honey brown eyes connected with poison green ones. A tiny smile and humour prickled in those incredible eyes though somebody who didn't know the raven sound supervisor wouldn't be able to see it.

The three college friends were wrapped up in their happy bubble when Urahara burst it by babbling:

"Oh that's true! I remember how cute you were when you were a baby and we would bathe together when your parents were too busy! Aaah, good memories! Well, except for that time when you pooped in the bath! That was dis-"

Ichigo's hand pressed against his producer's mouth to keep the embarrassing stories from being revealed. He sported a mortified look and a heavy blush as he yelled at his father's best friend to just shut the fuck up before he silenced him forever.

While Urahara tried to pry off the tan hand that was keeping him from breathing, Renji guffawed and Ulquiorra looked like he was about to _chuckle_. Ichigo started cussing, swearing that after their boss, they'd be suffering the same fate.

_God, they'll never let me live it down._

After a good five minutes of laughter, angry curses and yelps, the group calmed down as they went back to focusing on their job. A few details later, the two technical supervisors left to give their respective crews a briefing.

Urahara looked around, making Ichigo wonder what the man was thinking about. Urahara scratched his scruffy stubble before his eyes lightened up.

"That's right! Your partner for today's show should already be here! I'll go look for him, so wait here, Kurosaki-kun."

The redhead did as he was told, fiddling with his script while waiting. He thought about his temporary 'partner', a certain Grimmjow Jaegerjaques (How should he pronounce _that_) who supposedly was a rising star in the culinary world for his impressive skills and creative recipes. Rumours even pretended that the 29 years old man could make you high just by making you taste a bit of his creations. And apparently, he was handsome too. Though Ichigo really couldn't confirm that bit of information yet since the cook refused having pictures of him taken.

'_He doesn't want to have pictures of him taken yet he accepted appearing on a popular TV show. Makes no fucking sense… Maybe he's a loon or something?'_

Ichigo thought about the man who seemingly was handsome… but Shirosaki was too and he was the craziest person the TV host had ever met on set. Or in his whole life, for that matter. He just hoped he wouldn't have to go through something similar today.

A cough brought the redhead's attention back to reality.

His head shot up and he came face to face with his producer. A deep frown settled on fine orange eyebrows:

"You're way too fucking close to me, Urahara."

Said man smiled, dimples appearing around the corners of his upwards stretched lips. He was about to say something – probably threatening Ichigo with a cheerful tone – when a deep chuckle resonated.

In his 26 years of existence, Kurosaki Ichigo would never have thought that a simple _chuckle_ could make his innards rumble… or almost turn his knees to jelly.

Focusing on the source of that wonderful sound – which wasn't really all that hard – the redheaded reporter noticed the man standing next to his idiotic 'uncle' for the first time.

How could he have missed him before?

Seriously?!

Oh yeah, right, there had been a nuisance, a big bug filling his visual field before.

The man was – for the lack of a better description – what people called 'Sex on Legs'. He was tall – probably around 1m90, had a muscled built and the most handsome face Ichigo had ever seen. Pale yet healthy coloured skin stretched tightly over strong and hard muscles that were hardly concealed by the traditional white cook jacket. As he appreciated the man's body discreetly – or so he thought – his eyes travelled up the narrow hips hugged by a white apron, lingering a bit over the torso and the large shoulders before stopping at the face he could've sworn even Gods – if they existed – wouldn't possess.

The man's face really was a paradox: On one side, he had fine traits – a straight nose, full but not overly so lips and sharp eyes and fine blue eyebrows fixed in a permanent frown – but on the other side, a wild air seemed to seep out of every pore of his being. And the man's amazing blue locks did nothing to tame it.

When brown eyes connected with ice blue ones, Ichigo felt like he was completely trapped. He was not sure if he liked it. He wanted to just take roots on the spot and gaze into those marvellous eyes forever…but at the same time, he wanted to run away immediately. Really, Ichigo had no idea what he should do.

The other man's pools were swirling with emotions and crinkled on the corners as an even bigger smirk spread on his face.

"Heh, looks like he's got quite temper," the man said, his smirk never leaving his face.

Ichigo, ripped out of his trance once again, flushed and tried not to splutter like an idiot. He couldn't keep his heart from pumping faster and faster. Excitement and lust filled him almost instantly. That man, his presence, his appearance and his voice were too much for the poor TV host's senses.

What? He hadn't gotten a decent lay for some time already.

_Though I'd probably have the same reaction even with an overactive sex life, _Ichigo's inner voice deadpanned.

The scowl on Ichigo's face deepened. Yes, he was a _little bit _deprived, he knew it very well. But he still didn't like to be reminded of it every passing second of the day. After a few moments, he shrugged, trying to relax his tense posture and sighed. He then focused back on Grimmjow:

"I only show it when people annoy me, sir."

The blue haired cook let out a harsh laughter at that before the smirk settled back on his face. His petrifying eyes raked over the redhead's toned body appreciatively and a deep hum resounded in his broad chest at the same sight. Ichigo was pretty sure he could burst in thousand bits of flame on the spot. He felt so hot yet angry at the same time.

'_What the hell is wrong with that guy?! I mean, sure, he's handsome as hell but who the fuck does he think he is, shamelessly eye-raping me like that?'_ the Japanese redhead ranted in his mind. He was about to give the other a tongue lashing when an _annoying bug_ – bane of Ichigo's existence – made its presence known yet again.

Urahara, apparently completely oblivious to the heavy tension, slapped Grimmjow's broad shoulder while exclaiming:

"My my, you two are going to get along really well, I can feel it!"

The blue haired invitee scowled and glared at the obnoxious weirdo for interrupting him in the middle of his 'conversation', or more like staring contest, with the fiery redhead. The scruffy man completely ignored his heated stare as he continued prattling about the oncoming recording.

All the while, Ichigo was panicking in his mind. He was supposed to shoot during a whole day – _a whole day as in from the early morning till late in the night_ – with that handsome guy who was taking his clothes off his body with his eyes?! The dude was freaking him out more and more!

After allowing himself a bit of self-pity, Ichigo strengthened his will and courage, keeping his face set in a scowling emotionless wall. He was a professional. He could handle an arrogant possible-rapist who looked like a sex demon. He had managed Shirosaki on his set before and since he was pretty sure no one could beat the rock star who'd flashed his parts during the love show, this guy could not be that much of a challenge… maybe.

Feeling calmer, Ichigo cleared his throat and stretched his hand out.

"Nice to meet you, Mister Jaegerjaques. I'm Ichigo Kurosaki and I will have the pleasure of working with you today."

The uniform clad man stared at his hand for a second, puzzled by the sudden change of attitude, before smirking at the TV host and shaking his hand.

"My pleasure, Mister Kurosaki. I'm sure today's show will be a great success."

His big hand – string and roughened from years in the kitchen – squeezed a last time Ichigo's slender one before letting go.

Grimmjow cackled internally. He liked his prey better when they were stubborn.

The tall cook let out a chuckle before passing by Ichigo to inspect the kitchen installed on the set with Urahara. His firm shoulder brushed against his interest's.

Ichigo's eyes widened as he tried his best not to let out a yelp. He felt blood rush to his cheeks and he paced quickly to the dress room.

_Did he just grab my ass?_

And suddenly, Ichigo was not sure if he'd be able to handle this handsome beast easier than the albino rock star Shirosaki.

**OOOOOOO**

**A/N: And this is the first part! This was supposed to be a one-shot but I thought it'd be too long so I broke it down in four chapters. The end is already set too! **

**Thanks for reading and if you were to leave a review, I'd really appreciate it! **


	2. L'Appétit Vient en Mangeant

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews, story alerts and favorites! **

**BTW, there is no real plot in this story because it was supposed to be a small stupid one-shot. Also, this chapter is pretty uneventful. **

**Still, enjoy! **

**You are what you eat**

**Chapter Two : ****L'appétit vient en mangeant **

Bright spotlights lit the set where Grimmjow and Ichigo stood, waiting for the last preparations to be done. Assistants swirled around the two men, adjusting their outfits, hiding their small microphones better and adding a bit of matting powder on their faces.

"What the-?! Get that damn brush out of my face, brat!" Grimmjow threatened a tiny assistant, Hanatarou, who'd been engaged only a couple of weeks ago. The small make-up assistant looked like he was about to cry, his large eyes full of fear.

Just when Grimmjow was about to cuss the raven out, Ichigo interrupted him, his voice flat:

"Mister Jaegerjaques, let Hanatarou do his job. That powder prevents your face from gleaming, so please bear with it."

The TV reporter repressed a sigh of irritation as he went back to concentrating on his notes. He really wanted to bash the handsome cook's face on the clean kitchen counter and it had only been half an hour since their first meeting.

And what a first meeting.

Ichigo still couldn't believe that the man had groped his ass like that, in front of everybody. Blood crept up his cheeks as he thought about it.

_Okay, I'm not going to lie, I kind of feel proud that such a guy would be interested in me…but still! What the fuck?! I mean, what if somebody had seen it? Oh god, I would never be able to live that down, _the Japanese male ranted in his mind.

"Okay, is everybody ready?" Urahara asked cheerfully. He looked at all the people on his sides and seeing that no one shook their head, he continued:

"Let's get started, then! Mister Jaegerjaques, Kurosaki-kun, you know what you have to say right?"

Both males looked at each other, Ichigo's face as serious as Grimmjow's smirk was large. At the same time, they turned to the scruffy director and nodded.

"Great! Well then, 'Eat me, Lovely!' first take in three…two…one!"

The whole crew went silent as several cameras concentrated on the set, where the most popular TV host of the moment was about to charm the ladies with Valentine's Day _cuisine_.

Said man took a deep breath, reveling for a second in the delightful feeling of excitement doing his job gave him before easing the ever present frown on his face. A dazzling smile spread on his lips as his honey brown eyes stared straight in the camera in front of him.

"Good morning and welcome to our special Valentine's Day cooking show 'Eat me, Lovely'! I'm Kurosaki Ichigo and I will be your host tonight! I hope you are ready to prepare a dinner _he_'ll never forget!"

_Ah, I love this job._

OoOoOoO

Ichigo tried really hard not to show his real emotions on TV. He made a rule out of that, if only for the reason that his personal problems had nothing to do with his job. So, when he was on the set, he always shut away his feelings and played the nice pleasant guy.

But for the first time since the Shirosaki incident, the redhead found it difficult to not let his mood affect his public behavior. Yes, he said he usually left his problems out of the studio but his current issue was _on the set_ at the moment. And there was no way he could avoid it.

Not letting his smile slip off his face, the Japanese man looked over to the new bane of his existence.

"Mister Jaegerjaques-", he started only to be interrupted by said man.

"Call me Grimmjow, Ichigo," the blue haired cook said in a deep, friendly tone that made Ichigo's guts do a whole summersault routine.

The handsome man smirked as he pushed his bangs back thanks to a thin elastic hairband.

"Okay, Grimmjow," the other said, "tell us a bit about what we're going to do with the ladies today, please."

The cook chuckled as mirth filled his ice blue eyes. Ichigo felt dread fill his chest. He could already imagine what the other would say and it was not good. Really not good. Damn, he should have found another way to formulate his question.

'_He is not going to… oh please, Lord, don't let him…' _Ichigo begged whatever was looking down on them from up there.

"Do you mean right now or later?" Grimmjow purred as he winked in the direction of the cameras.

'_Oh god…Why isn't Urahara saying 'no good'?! Is he smiling? I can't believe it, Urahara's grinning like an idiot! I'll kill him when we're done!'_ he raged internally.

Ichigo was beyond mortified. Sure, they were expected to say stuff like that since it was a Valentine's Day's special but he hadn't thought that beast would shoot off from the very beginning on. The younger male pushed away those thoughts and faked a chuckle that sounded sincere. He could not let _that demon_'s behavior spoil his work.

"Grimmjow, stop that. We wouldn't want our dear TV spectators to eat _us _instead of their love interest, now would we?" He let a smirk bloom on his face as he faked complicity with the taller male standing on his left.

Orange-brown eyes connected with ice blue ones for an instant. Suddenly, a rush of heat shot through the fiery redhead's chest as he desperately tried to break the invisible link between him and Mr. Sex-on-Legs. Ichigo felt so hot. But he would not accept it being the result of staying close to an Adonis.

_Probably the spotlights… _

He cleared his voice inaudibly before pointing at the ingredients spread in front of him and his uniform-clad guest:

"So, what have you planned on teaching us?"

For once, the curiosity in his voice was sincere. Ichigo really wondered what the rising star of the culinary world intended to prepare. The man was known to be a really skilled cook after all. And Ichigo wasn't the kind to spit on gourmet cuisine.

Grimmjow sent him a side-glance before rolling up the sleeves of his uniform, revealing his roped and hard forearms. Ichigo gulped at the sight, not sure what he should do with the feeling such a simple motion brought up in him. The cook then briefly explained:

"Since it's Valentine's Day, I decided to go with passionate colors such as red, strong fragrances and, of course, aphrodisiac food like shrimps, peppers and so on. Because we all know that nothing spells love like se-"

"So, what dishes will you delight us with tonight?" Ichigo interrupted him hurriedly.

Grimmjow mock-pouted a bit at the redhead for cutting in but when he noticed the light brush across the bridge of the other's freckled nose, he grinned and pointed at various ingredients:

"Well, I thought about serving shrimp in Champagne sauce with pasta for the entrée. This will be followed by grilled chicken with cherry-chipotle sauce and finally the dessert, a Heavenly Devil – Softhearted Chocolate cake duo."

The blue-haired man then grabbed a black and red apron from under the counter and threw it in the surprised Japanese's direction. The latter caught the item and looked up at the cook, confused:

"Grimmjow, I'm not sure I understand."

Grimmjow's eyes crinkled at the corners as a deceiving smile settled on his handsome traits:

"Why, Ichi, you're going to help me," he said in a sweet tone.

Peach colored lips parted slightly in shock. Grimmjow smirked, imagining how he'd be ravaging that pretty mouth in not too long. Too bad he could not do this right now, in front of the cameras.

While Grimmjow was fantasizing about kinky scenarios, Ichigo tried keeping his cool as he tied the apron around his narrow hips. He then laughed and said:

"Dear ladies, it seems that my crew and Mister Jaegerjaques decided to go and surprise me with this. However, to be honest with you… I'm not a great cook. Ah, if only one of you beauties could come here and give me a hand…" He then looked at the main camera with pleading puppy eyes. Oh, that improvisation was so going to get the spectators, he was sure of it.

All of a sudden, a large hand grabbed Ichigo's toned shoulder, pulling him against a rock hard chest. As he looked up, almost letting his smiling façade crumble, he came face to face with a grinning Grimmjow who patted his shoulders.

"Don't worry, _Ichi_, I'll help ya," the man said in a comforting tone.

Ichigo casually pushed the other's hand away before smiling – his eyes full of threats and killing intent - and told the other to start cooking.

OoOoOoOo

'_Okay, this is it, fucking hell_!', Ichigo yelled in his mind.

He could not stand that anymore! Grimmjow What's-His-Name was driving him nuts.

Ichigo could feel anger cloud his chest as he relied on his last energy to keep from killing the cook. Right now, the sharp knife lying on the counter was_ really_ tempting.

Ichigo was forcefully pulled out of his murder plans by Grimmjow's left hand, which was deftly groping his ass… _for the twenty-fifth time already. _Ichigo wanted to cut that offending hand away from its owner but for obvious reasons, he could not. Unfortunately.

For the past two hours since the recording of the show had begun, Ichigo had been bodily _assaulted _by that damn handsome devil of a cooking star. Okay, he had checked the other out regulary, but that was nothing compared to the other male!

The blue haired man alternatively groped his ass, grazed his hands, bumped into him 'accidentally' with that stupid perfect chest of his or even caressed his lower back under his shirt.

And the worst, _the worst_, was that the TV crew apparently didn't notice anything.

'_Seriously?! That asshole is almost ravaging me in front of the cameras and no one, absolutely fucking no one, has noticed it yet?'_, he fumed.

"Are you listening, Ichi?" Grimmjow said in fake scolding, his eyes sparkling knowingly. A smug grin that the redhead wished he could punch away was engraved on the good-looking man's face. Again, the man sighed in mock-exasperation, his blue eyebrows pulled in a small frown before he grabbed Ichigo's hand that was holding a knife.

He bent down and moved the Japanese's smaller hand with his own as he showed him the motion once again:

"Look, you have to cut the hot peppers like that, Ichi."

Said male felt the fine hair of his neck stand up as hot breath ghosted against the bare skin. You see? _This _was what he had been talking about: To others, it might have seemed completely genuine and normal, but for Ichigo, it was pure torture because _he knew_ the other wanted to get in his pants.

The blue-haired cook resumed to his explanations, skillfully going from one pan to the other, stirring sauces, adding spices and manually mixing ingredients here and there without even breaking a sweat. No surprise really, since that was his profession.

Delicious fragrances filled the air in the studio – Ichigo could see the crew members drooling on the other side of the cameras – as the Valentine's Day dinner was being prepared by Grimmjow.

Ichigo felt shame burn his cheeks a bit as he thought about how he wasn't a help at all. But not allowing himself to cry over that, the TV host tried helping the best he could, because he had a job and an image to keep up.

After yet another hour, the awaited "Cut!" resounded in the large studio. Instantly, chatter and noise filled the atmosphere as crew members and assistants busied themselves with their tasks.

Ichigo felt relief pour down onto him. He was exhausted. He had had to make trice the efforts to keep his façade up – because of a certain _someone_ who couldn't keep his hands on his goddamn utensils - and at the same time "help" with the actual cooking and interview Grimmjow about his job, his career and his private life.

And as it was a cooking show, they couldn't take breaks during the recording. 

Long, tan fingers ran through shockingly orange strands as Ichigo trudged to Urahara's seat, behind the main camera. The scruffy blond was busy throwing orders around as they had to move the set for the second part. After a few dragged paces, the young TV reporter stopped in front of his boss who looked up like him, a sheepish smile on his face.

Orange eyebrows were pulled into a frown, waiting for the man to apologize for not telling him about the 'You are going to cook with him'-part. Ichigo was tempted to rip his 'uncle's head off but was too tired for that.

"Okay, what now?" he asked, his tone irritated.

Green eyes widened a bit in surprise before the man returned to his usual obnoxious self:

"Well, Kurosaki-kun! You can go have a rest for now! Grimmjow and the crew have to make preparations for the next set but you aren't needed for another thirty minutes. Just go to Szayel!"

As the younger male walked away – relieved that he wouldn't have to endure that sex-addicted cook's gropes - , the director yelled:

"Great job, Kurosaki-kuuun!"

Which was answered with an eloquent 'fuck you' motion.

OoOoOoOo

After another dressing session with Szayel, who couldn't shut up about how perfectly handsome Grimmjow was and how he and Ichigo were meant to be together, the slightly revived TV host returned to the set.

"Oh, Kurosaki-kun, you are particularly good-looking! I'm sure your father will cry when he'll see the show tomorrow morning!" Urahara exclaimed, making a few people turn to look at their friend and star.

Ichigo was now wearing a black suit and a burgundy V-neck as well as black leather shoes. The suit clung to his lean yet muscled frame perfectly, making his regular trips to the pool stand out more than before. His hair hadn't been touched because that way he'd have a 'wilder' look. A black watch and a thin chain finished off the image the production had aimed for.

A wild, passionate and handsome man who was waiting for love.

As soon as he stepped a foot on the new set, the balcony of the building, assistants rushed towards him, preparing the small microphone. Saying nothing because he was used to this, Ichigo stared at the vast forest that surrounded this part of the studio. The sun was already setting and covered the scenery with its beautiful shades of pink and orange. Ichigo felt at ease for the first time since the last time he'd left his bed.

Unfortunately, that moment didn't last for long as a deep, rumbling voice resounded on the rather large circular balcony. Ichigo jumped a bit before turning around, about to cuss at the man who had made this day awes- … miserable.

_What the hell did I just think? I…I must be really tired…' _Ichigo mumbled, heat once again rushing to his cheeks.

Sure, he hadn't gotten laid for some time already but he had more control than that. Even if the other's hands seemed to be extremely dexterous (wouldn't they be, after so many hours of labor?) … The blood that had been rushing to his cheeks made an abrupt U-turn to go there where it was apparently needed. Ichigo paled before regaining some control over his feelings before a raging boner could appear.

Halfhearted anger filled him as he intended to question the other about his actions earlier that day. When he turned around, his breath got caught in his throat along with his annoyance.

The cocky cook was standing next to the small round table, arranging the plates and the decoration. He was completely focused on his work as he ordered the poor assistants around without even giving them a tiny bit of attention. A serious and concentrated expression marred his face for the first time since they'd met. The warm glow of the dusk made his face look even more beautiful than it already was. Ichigo gulped. He didn't like it. Well, he did but at the same time, he did not like liking the sight offered to him.

But that didn't mean he wouldn't allow himself a few more moments of secret eye-raping. His brown orbs traveled up the strong arms which lead to broad shoulders and a toned uniform that barely concealed the abs and pectorals underneath. His heartbeat picked up as he looked at the slightly parted lips where the tip of a tongue could be seen. The black hairband the man adorned couldn't keep a few stubborn strands from falling around the man's face but said cook was too occupied to notice.

When Grimmjow straightened up again, Ichigo gasped, thinking the man had noticed him, but the man just looked at his work from afar before arranging a few final details.

Blue eyes critically contemplated the table in front of them and judging it to be good enough looked up, only to catch an unfocused redhead looking at him. Grimmjow smirked and wiped his hands off on his apron before walking towards the still unsuspecting Ichigo.

"You like what you-", he started, his tone deep and seductive. However, _that obnoxiously loud _voice interrupted him yet again:

"Mister Jaegerjaques! Are you done with the preparations?" Urahara popped up behind Grimmjow. Honestly, that man had a knack for appearing out of nowhere when no one wanted him to be there.

Cursing about his bad luck and the stupid blond creep, the cook glared at the director before answering that yes, he was done.

"Okay, well then you are done for the day! You can leave now. Thank you for the hard work and I hope I will be able to work with you again in the future… Depending on how much our public liked your performance."

Urahara ushered him inside the building before Grimmjow could protest. The cooking star looked back at the balcony as he was pushed out of the second set, catching sight of the delicious TV host he'd been working with frowning at him.

The look on the exotic Japanese male's face told Grimmjow that he should definitely not give up on chasing the younger man.

OoOoOoOoOo

Soft candle light bathed polished wine glasses and fine china in a warm color as the rest of the world was plunged into darkness with only stars and the moon shining in the sky, dazzling like diamonds. The dishes Grimmjow Jaegerjaques had prepared and decorated meticulously looked divine and matched the roses that littered the stone rail of the balcony as well as the small round table Ichigo was seated at.

Ichigo smiled gently in the direction of the cameras and pointed at the empty chair near his own:

"Well, now I have a delicious dinner, a beautiful scenery and roses but…" he trailed off before smiling seductively, "I don't have a beautiful lady to share it with. I wonder who will want to celebrate Valentine's Day here…with me?"

God, he could already hear the ladies squeal.

After a few instants of complete silence, Urahara said:

"Okay, that's a wrap!"

As soon as he had uttered the words, the TV host let the smiling mask fall. He hated faking that expression. It made him look like a pervert… or his idiotic cousin Kon… a pervert. But he had to do it, it was his job.

As assistants took his microphone away and shyly said 'good job, Mister Kurosaki', the latter looked at the romantic set he was sitting in. The redhead felt a bit guilty for playing with all those faithful fans' hearts. He didn't mean to deceive them, but the agency had said that if it were to be known that Ichigo was about as straight as a rainbow, his popularity would crash. So, he didn't say anything about it.

'_But those idiots from the prod' almost revealed the secret!', _he grumbled, _'I mean, is there a worse idea than putting me on a set with some sex-addict who tried to jump me in front of TV cameras?!' _

Brown eyes glared down but immediately softened when they caught sight of the delicious looking food displayed in front of them. Ichigo's stomach let out a small noise because amazing fragrances filled his nose. He hadn't eaten much during his lunch break with Szayel after all. On top of that, the cuisine looked like a creation of the gods.

Eyes flitting from one dish to another and finally to the dessert, he thought:

'_What a waste it'd be to not eat these chefs-d'oeuvres…' _than his brain summoned memories of a few hours prior where the redhead had been 'molested' by the blue haired devil.

'_Forget it. I'm not eating what that asshole prepared.'_

His annoyance reached new peaks when he mused about the man. He wouldn't have minded the straight-forwardness in other circumstances, but while he was on the job? No way in hell. Also, that man had a despicable personality. Those ice blue eyes that stared right through your soul, looking at you like you were some toy. Ichigo bristled in anger and hissed:

"What an ass."

"Ouch, I hope you're not talking about me, Ichi," a deep voice whispered in the surprised redhead's ear.

_What? He hasn't left the studio yet?_

Ichigo's head jerked up to glare at the tall Adonis standing in front of him.

_Oh boy…_, Ichigo's mind went blank.

He had loved the man in his uniform but apparently, normal clothes had turned Grimmjow in a weapon on mass seduction.

_I'm never going to get out of this mess._

**A/N: Yep, this is a completely useless chapter but it was necessary for the… uhm… "plot". BTW, the title is a saying that means "Appetite comes with eating." :P**

**The way Ichi presents the show was inspired by how TV hosts act on TV here in Japan. I'm not a fan but well… **

**Hope you enjoyed it even if it wasn't really super awesome. Two more chapters to go, whooo! **

**Thanks for reading and if you feel like it, leave a review. :D **


	3. Chi Mangia Solo Crepa Solo

**A/N: Wow, I did not expect such a response! Thank you for all your wonderful reviews, story alerts and favorites! This really made me happy! **

**I hope you'll like this chapter (the third part of four!). It's really bad, full of crap and not interesting but hey, you're lucky, after this chapter, there's only one more to go!**

**Keep in mind that I still don't have a lovely Beta so mistakes will probably litter the chapter. Leave a review if you want to say something! **

"**Enjoy"! **

**You are what you eat**

**Chapter Three: Chi mangia solo, crepa solo*.**

_He had loved the man in his uniform but apparently, normal clothes had turned Grimmjow in a weapon on mass seduction. _

_I'm never going to get out of this mess. _

_**OooOoOoO**_

_That's illegal! He should not be allowed to walk around like that! What the-?!, _Ichigo cursed incoherently in his head. The man in front of him was what one could describe as the epitome of manliness. And the worst was, his clothes were the most basic outfit out there: A black V-neck that clung to his torso like a second skin and a pair of dark denim jeans. Nothing extraordinary, right?

And yet, he oozed manliness and beauty.

Ichigo gulped. His mouth felt too dry all of a sudden. As if someone had sucked away all the humidity in the air. He wanted to say something – _anything _– but he couldn't. If he had tried, he probably would have said something along the lines of "Garblegrmblrrr".

He tried to remember how to formulate words – you know, how to move his mouth and connect it to his brain – but the way the handsome cook's muscles stretched and twisted with each and every move the man made rendered him as useful as a pile of goo. The black T-shirt barely concealed the rippled abs and toned chest. Ichigo just wanted to tear away that annoying piece of cloth and run his hands over the hard planes and then - …

"What's wrong, Ichi? The cat got your tongue?" Grimmjow inquired, grinning like a madman.

_He fucking knows that-…! _Ichigo screamed internally.

His ever-present scowl deepened as he glared at the blue haired demon that'd rendered him speechless. Maybe all the frustration and anger he concentrated in that stare would make the other combust? Certainly not, but it was worth a try.

At the harsh glare directed at him, Grimmjow felt sweat starting to gather in his neck. Sure, he liked his 'prey' to be a bit on the wilder side which was why he wouldn't let go of Ichigo – he _knew _that a sex beast hid behind the mask the beautiful TV host constantly adorned. His sharp brown eyes that would turn a lovely shade of melting gold whenever Grimmjow had slipped his hand under his shirt or 'accidentally' groped that firm butt were proof enough. Yes, the cook was a sucker for fiery lovers… but he wasn't into crazy murderers, and by the looks of it, Kurosaki Ichigo was about to turn into one.

Grimmjow cleared his throat and combed a hand through his baby blue locks as he kept up his cocky attitude.

"Ichi, why don't you eat the dishes I prepared for you? That's quite disrespectful of you."

Ichigo's glare lost a bit of its intensity as he contemplated the food for a second. To be honest, it looked pretty much like food porn and as he was starving, he only wished to succumb to the delicious temptation offered to him.

_But _he _prepared it. I can't give in. _ He frowned a bit before looking up and saying:

"It's probably cold by now."

_Oh, great excuse, Ichigo. Bravo, bravo. _Ichigo's inner voice whispered sarcastically. _That's all you could come up with? Seriously? _

The redhead rolled his eyes and prayed the older man would leave him alone. He highly doubted that but once again, he would take an opportunity to get rid of him whenever he saw one.

A harsh laugh left Grimmjow's throat as he sat down on the free chair next to the stubborn Japanese. He shook his head in disbelief before answering:

"I don't think so. However, if it were to be cold, you could still eat them. I chose dishes that could be eaten either way because since it was for Valentine's Day… you never know what would happen between two courses, am I right?"

He winked at Ichigo, wiggling his brow comically to add some fun effect that would hopefully lighten the other's murderous mood. The cook really like this one and didn't want to have to turn him in.

'_That'd be too much a waste of a good piece of ass_,' he sighed.

He looked at Ichigo who seemed to be torn between running away and hitting Grimmjow.

The redhead had almost choked on his spit when he heard the _heavy _innuendo and right now, he was pretty sure he had turned a lovely shade of beet red. The younger male had to plunge into the deepest recesses of his mind to not hit the other man. He really wanted to but he loved his job too much to lose it over something this trivial.

The TV host's face turned emotionless before he looked straight into ice blue eyes. The cook wasn't sure what to make of the sudden change in attitude but he waited for the other to say something.

A few moments later, Ichigo deadpanned, his voice disgusted:

"I'm not eating anything _you _prepared."

Grimmjow felt as if someone had punched him in the stomach… or in his super-ego. No one had ever, _ever_, refused anything prepared by him. People reserved months in advance to get to degust a small dish at a ridiculously high price. And now, this sexy redhead told him he rejected his cuisine under the pretext that _Grimmjow _had prepared. Not to mention that he was the fucking rising star of the cooking world!

A winning smirk overtook Ichigo's features as he watched a tiny layer of the turquoise eyed male's ego crumble.

_1 – 0 for me, asshole, _he cheered in his head.

His subconscious quietly told him that the other was hundreds of points ahead but Ichigo decided that for once, he didn't have any fucks to distribute. The younger male had not yet taken pleasure in his small victory for more than a second when the original disturbance in his existence popped up again.

"Kurosaki-kun! Why don't you eat what Mister Jaegerjaques prepared?" he asked, half of his face hidden behind his favorite green fan.

Ichigo was about to retort when the scruffy blond continued, his eyes and mouth crinkling in a poisonous smile:

"_Kurosaki-kuuun, _don't you even _dare _wasting this chef-d'oeuvre."

An aura of '_I'll fire you if you try to answer in a negative way._' filled the space and almost suffocated the Japanese TV star.

The two sitting males stared at the suddenly menacing director with round eyes, silent, before the cook grinned widely and the redheaded reporter paled. The latter's eyes flitted over to the crew members who were currently gobbling down the left-overs on the first TV-set. Then the honey brown pools settled back on Urahara's face, scrutinizing, before catching sight of a few crumbles and a tiny spot of chocolate on the three-days-beard.

'Traitors!' he grumbled before facing the food, sporting a slight pout.

Grabbing his fork and knife, he glanced back at his uncle/boss who, apparently satisfied, vanished from the table and reappeared in the middle of the feast the crew was holding in the inner part of the studio.

Sighing dejectedly, the Japanese TV star reached for the entrée but before his fork could even poke into the dish, a hand grabbed his wrist.

"No, no, Ichi, that's not how it works," teased Grimmjow, earning a glare from the fiery redhead who was about to hit him.

"What now?" Ichigo hissed as he tried to pull his hand free from Grimmjow's grasp.

"You should thank me for preparing this for you, no? Haven't your parents ever taught you good manners?"

Ichigo felt his ears and cheeks prickle in embarrassment as he reluctantly looked into wild sky blue eyes, trying not to get lost in them, before muttering:

"Thanks for the food… I guess."

The older male nodded, a smug grin painted on his handsome face, before letting go of Ichigo's limb. He bent over to the younger male's ear – his lips almost touching the sensitive part - and whispered huskily:

"You're always welcome, Ichigo."

The latter felt like he was going to spontaneously combust into flames. His heart was beating faster with every second and the worst was, _Grimmjow hadn't done anything yet besides talking and being ridiculously good-looking. _

Not wanting to be distracted by the man and that cursed body of his, Ichigo kept his head bowed as he started cutting bits of food and picking them up with his fork. When he took a bite in his mouth, the man thought he was going to go mad.

'_What the…?! This is so fricking good!'_ he exclaimed in his mind.

A moan almost escaped his throat as he quickly took another bite of the delicious concoctions. He forgot the world around himself for a few moments as he greedily savored the gourmet cuisine. However, he was pulled out of his reveries by a deep chuckle that only matched the food perfectly well: delicious, pleasant and sinful.

"I take that you like it? If your silence and sudden appetite is anything to go by," Grimmjow murmured, his permanent smirk widening even more.

His ice blue eyes sparkled in contentment and something darker that Ichigo didn't feel like paying attention to… at the moment at least.

The brown eyed male felt a small smile pull at the corners of his lips. Although his pride and stubbornness didn't allow him to show it, Ichigo knew that he couldn't be mad at the older man for groping him on the set.

'_I mean, as long as he doesn't do it here, where everybody can see it, it's fine, ri-'_

He couldn't even finish his thought because a hand that was certainly not his suddenly settled on his lap. Ichigo jumped a bit, startled by the unexpected contact. It took his surprised brain some time to understand what was happening but when it did, the redhead turned his eyes to Grimmjow, glaring at the smirking man with a blazing glare. His eyes turned a hot golden shade as the frown on his eyebrows deepened.

"What the-?!" he hissed poisonously.

He couldn't believe it! Right when he had thought the other was pretty okay and could possibly interest him, he had to do _that_. The TV host felt like killing the other man for daring to touch him again in public. Hadn't the man noticed that he did not want that?

Thinking a bit, he concluded that probably he had but that that handsome devil was too sadistic to stop.

"What's wrong, _Ichi_?" Grimmjow asked, a fine brow arched.

His face screamed innocence… well, should have, if the suppressed grin and the dark tint in his electric blue eyes hadn't given him away. Or his big strong hand that was massaging Ichigo's tight slowly and sensually.

Once again, Grimmjow cackled internally. He was winning this game. The other could not escape and was bound to be lying under him by the end of the night. The blue haired cook pressed his palm a bit more against Ichigo's leg, relishing in the soft gasp and blush that left his interest's flushed lips.

'_Ah, I'm such a lucky guy,' _the German man thought.

He knew that his prey could not yell because he probably didn't want his whole crew to know. Though, honestly, _he _would certainly not care about some audience.

The long, white table cloth ruffled as the man's hand moved again, slowly creeping up the flabbergasted reporter's trousers. As much as he wanted to scream, or even glare at Jaegerjaques, the orange haired TV star couldn't because he didn't want to add some fuel to the raging fire brooding in his lower gut by looking into those tantalizing orbs.

OoOoOoOoOoO

'_I can't take it anymore! This… this is too much!'_, Ichigo whimpered in thought.

The redhead felt the desperate need to flee from the filming set and the handsome devilish cook that drove him crazy, but he knew that as long as he had no 'valid' excuse to leave - that is, as long as he wasn't done eating – his pride and his boss would not leave him be.

Indeed, Urahara had been sending glances his way to make sure that his nephew wasn't being disrespectful towards the delicious food and their creator.

'_He probably only cares about that because he wants to use the man in the future. Fucking asshole,' _Ichigo cursed as he munched on a succulent bite of chocolate cake.

The bittersweet taste, mixed with the sweet taste of whipped cream, filled his mouth, spreading on his taste buds. His heart beat harder and louder with every bit of food passed his lips. It was definitely bliss-inducing…

And being groped, caressed and teased by a sinfully sexy man did not help.

For the past thirty minutes already, the unusual Japanese had been on sensory overload: A large hand had been touching his lap, pressing with its long, roughened fingertips against his inner tights before slowly moving up to the border of his black slacks and drawing invisible patterns that left a trail of want and desire behind. In addition, a deep, rumbling voice that rolled of smirking lips like hot lava kept whispering promises of unimaginable pleasure in a tone and a volume that only his oversensitive ears could catch. On top of that, the food was orgasmic, making his mind feel light and airy.

'_Oh, not to mention that we are in a place with maybe thirty other people who keep looking and still don't have a fucking clue!'_

Ichigo could barely control himself but he knew that if his control were to snap, he'd lose his job and his honor as a professional reporter.

At his side, Grimmjow still prattled on, alternatively whispering dirty things and holding a normal conversation in a casual tone. The brown eyed man could see all the lust and wilderness hardly contained in the glistering ice blue eyes directed at him. They were making him feel hot and on fire as much as that damned hand did. He didn't even have to look at the older male to know that his eyes were following every movement of his lips and tongue.

'_Fucking hell, can't he stop looking at me like he's going to devour me?' _the 'prey' wondered. '_Never mind… he probably will if I don't stop this now.'_

"Is everything alright, Ichi? You look like you're a bit hot… You haven't caught a fever, have you?" Grimmjow inquired in mock-worry.

The former felt like he was going to explode, but now not in pleasure anymore. Anger roared in his chest and made his blood sing even more that before. Trying to breathe slowly and count until ten, the man clenched his fork and knife with so much force that they almost bent.

'_As much as I love those eyes, I really want to stab them out right now.'_

Okay, the 'count-until-ten-'method didn't seem to work.

The TV host grumbled as he scraped the last crumbles of dessert off his plate.

"Don't worry, I'm perfectly…fine," he answered his torturer, finally looking up and straight into his eyes.

Grimmjow's eyes quickly flitted across the table, taking in all the empty dishes before – pleased by the appreciation shown to one of his talents – settling back on the center of his attention.

"It seems that you quite liked what I did for you…" he smiled saucily. This was accompanied by a slow yet firm rub near Ichigo's crotch. The other male gasped for the umpteenth time as he tried controlling his voice as well as the ripe blush on his cheeks.

Grimmjow brushed his blue locks back with his unoccupied hand. He couldn't help but thinking that his soon-to-be lover looked like an ambrosial strawberry.

'_Ripe and ready for the picking.'_

His exploring hand moved up and settled on a warm back. He could feel the goose bumps on the expanse of skin under his palm, making his lust spike again.

As he fantasied about what he would do to the lovely younger male, he grinned, displaying his dazzling white teeth and sharp canines.

What he did not expect though was the foot that slowly and languidly started to caress his shin. He did show his surprise but simpered all the more. His super-ego reached new heights:

'_I knew he could not resist. No surprise, really… No one can say no to Grimmjow Jaegerjaques.'_

All the while, Ichigo observed the man's reaction, almost rolling his eyes and scoffing when he saw the man's conceitedness exhibited blatantly on his perfect face. However he chose not to comment.

He had a plan after all.

"This… was delicious!" he praised Grimmjow, softly smiling.

Then he let a dark lustful look seep through his honey colored eyes (being a TV host meant being an actor too) before muttering in a throaty tone:

"Amazing… Absolutely _orgasm-inducing_."

Ichigo finished off with a cheeky wink and waited for the cook's reaction.

Needless to say, he was not disappointed.

Confusion and surprise appeared in the man's eyes for a split second before the air around them turned heavy with sexual tension and want. The pressure crackled against Ichigo's skin like electricity. He smirked and chuckled interiorly:

'_This is too easy.'_

Grimmjow had bit down on the bait. It was so predicable that it was almost ridiculous. Shaking his head slightly, Ichigo ruffled his orange locks before sending a seductive look to the demon sitting near him. He ignored the hand massaging him more intently as he bent down a bit, closing the distance between himself and the still clueless rising star of the kitchen world.

His foot slit across the other man's tibia before caressing the jeans-clad tight in front of him. He let his toe gently rub the other's crotch, feeling the hard and big bulge despite wearing shoes. A rough grumble escaped perfectly shaped lips, only adding to the pressure. Gulping but still keeping up his masquerade, Ichigo bit his lip while letting his limb retrace its way back to the others shin.

Smiling at the personification of beauty seated next to him, he broke the contact between their bodies for a second by retracting his foot.

Once again, his German guest had no idea what hit him… literally.

Pain exploded in the sexy cook's lower leg as he expelled a harsh breath. Thousands of curses flitted through his raging mind as he glared at a grinning Ichigo.

"What the fu-?!" he growled lowly, feeling heat prickling on the corners of his eyes.

'_That little bitch! When I get him, I'll make him suffer!'_

Ichigo tilted his head innocently before asking, his eyes rounded:

"What's wrong, _Grimm_? Are you not well?"

As Grimmjow shot him another nasty look, Ichigo smugly smirked before continuing his act:

"Anyway, I need to go. It was a pleasure to work with you today. Thank you for the delicious food and I hope you'll have a great Valentine's Day tomorrow!"

Ichigo folded his napkin and carefully deposited it on the rose petals littered table. With a last genuine –well, faked – smile meant for his temporary partner he stood up and strolled in the studio.

Grimmjow could've sworn he was walking with a little spring in his step.

And was that little bastard humming?

Rubbing his throbbing tibia and ego, the blue haired man watched that delicious body walking away. The dripping hot man was fuming; He had never had such trouble getting into someone's pants and that turned him even more on.

"I'll make you beg for me, Ichigo. You won't even be able to speak when I'm done with you."

**OoOoOoOoO**

**A/N: Third part of this story done! One more to go! **

**I'm really apologizing for this shitty, pathetic excuse of a chapter! Nothing really happens and while I thought it was kind of necessary, I really wrote something horrifyingly bad. I just really couldn't focus and find the motivation to write but a deadline's a deadline…**

**I won't hold it against you if you hate me or throw stones at me. Ha ha ha! **

**BUT I promise the good stuff comes up next time (the chapter will NOT be released next week for I have tests to take).**

**Just bear with me one more time! (And review if you feel like it :laugh: )**

**PS: The title is the part of a proverb 'Chi mangia solo crepa sole. Chi mangia in compagnia vive in allegria.' Which means 'Who eats alone dies alone. Who eats with others will live in cheerfulness/happiness.'**


	4. When I'm eating, I'm dumb and deaf

**A/N: SO SORRY for the wait! I had a lot of things going on but also, this chapter is fricking cursed! The first time I wrote 6 pages and 4 disappeared. Then when I was done with 10 pages afterwards, half of the letters turned into squares because of some faulty floppy disc or sth… ANYWAYS, here it is!**

**IMPORTANT NOTICE****: I said this was going to be in 4 parts but the last instalment was too long so I cut it in TWO PARTS. SO, there will be ANOTHER UPDATE AFTER THIS ONE! **

**Thanks a lot for your reviews, faves, alerts and follows, they made my days brighter! **

**Thank you a lot, Patd06 for generously offering to beta and actually doing so when I popped up out of nowhere… Thanks a lot, really! (I still feel like I forced you though…) **

**THEN: REVIEW please! It really motivates me a lot and … **_**reviews = faster update of the final chapter (it's already written and edited so… I'm just sayin' ;) )**_

**Warning: Lime, Smut, Cussing and solo~ **

**PLEASE REVIEW! **

**Enjoy! **

**You are what you eat: Chapter Four: When I'm eating I'm deaf and dumb. (Russia)**

The next day was a slow one at Ichigo's apartment.

As he had finally gotten a day off, the exhausted TV host had decided to just lounge around in his flat, commuting from his bed to the couch at 2 PM and staying there, comfortably nestled between piles of cushions and blankets. He had occasionally dragged himself out of his plushy fortress to relieve his bladder or stuff his stomach with leftovers from the Chinese take-out. Ichigo had hesitated about eating those at first, however his former broke college student instincts had kicked in, forcing him to swallow the greasy mass of noodles. Since he was still well and alive, they must have been okay, he guessed.

In his own opinion, the redhead was having a perfect day. No calls from Urahara so far, nor from his stupid father begging him to bring a boyfriend home. And he actually managed not to think about the day before; That was really goddamn nice.

Yep, it was a perfect, serene day.

Well, except that every channel on his TV was talking about the one thing he didn't want to think about: Valentine's Day.

Every time he switched channels, hoping for a bloody, violent and extra manly movie his eyes were attacked by little hearts, sparkles and red roses. Of course, being too lazy to leave his home – but even more because he couldn't take in the horrible displays in shop windows – the redhead didn't go the DVD rental shop.

Groaning and moaning as he tried to free his entangled limbs from the blankets and pillows, the man decided to go take a long shower.

'_At least that will be more entertaining than those goddamn TV shows_,' he muttered grumpily and trudged towards his bathroom.

As soon as the warm water touched his tense shoulders, Ichigo let out a moan of contentment. Showering always had a relaxing effect on him but today, on the day of love, it completely washed 26-year-old single Ichigo's misery, loneliness and stress away.

After a while of enjoying this feeling of being free of any negative emotions, the redhead noticed something stirring in his lower gut. His brown eyes slowly opened and looked down, only to see that his length was getting harder and harder. Ichigo sighed as he grabbed his shaft, stroking it to its full hardness. A tingling sensation started filling up his lower gut, spreading in his body and flashes of a golden, tan and muscled body pressed against him and pounding into him roughly clouded his mind.

The redhead's heart beat picked up, his toes curled and a low but fierce moan started growing in the back of his throat. His hand moved up and down his dick faster and faster, tugging and pressing at all the right places.

In his mind he was gripping the strong arms of the man doing him, demanding for it to go faster and faster. A white-hot sensation was flowing abundantly through his excited system. His breath came out in shorter gasps and moans with every rub until he couldn't do anything but moan and press his eyes shut.

Finally, he felt his dick pulse and balls tighten as a thick white fluid left him, splattering against the shower's porcelain surface. Ichigo continued stroking himself, his imagination still providing him with the images of a hard, built, _perfect _chest covered in sweat and hovering over him. His inner eye trailed up the salty rivulets, enjoying the pattern the hard planes of muscles formed, then moved up to a sharp collar bone and defined Adam's apple before his bliss clouded eye met a pearl white smirk, electric blue eyes and baby blue hair.

…Blue hair. Blue hair? BLUE HAIR?

His senses being heightened by his recent orgasm, Ichigo sucked in a harsh breath. His body jerked involuntarily and with his eyes wide open he tried to comprehend what he had just seen.

Had he just… jerked off to the fantasy of Grimmjow fucking him like there was no tomorrow? Had he really just done that? The redhead felt embarrassment and panic prickle in his neck, cheeks and ear tips. His heartbeat picked up again, making him breathe louder and faster.

"What the fucking hell?!" He yelled to the ceiling of his shower, anger and frustration clear in his voice.

"Not only does that asshole fuck with me on the job but he also fucking dares polluting my dreams?! What a fucking prick!"

His inner voice told him that the blue haired cook had nothing to do with his imagination but Ichigo just had to blame_ someone. _And that would certainly not be himself.

Fuming and still ashamed, he quickly washed away the evidence of his intimate time with himself then dried his body with a towel and dashed towards his bedroom. There he slipped into a black pair of loose joggings and a black top.

He paced around his room, glanced at the alarm clock on his bedpost and saw that it was only 7 PM. The Japanese male sighed irritatedly, suddenly finding his room to be too small and stuffy.

The redhead walked around his large apartment, trying to get the very graphic images from before out of his head. He needed something to get those off his mind.

Looking around, he cursed his constant need to clean up and keep his place neat because right now a thorough cleaning session of his home would've helped a lot.

A sudden and loud growl made the stressed TV host halt in his frantic movements.

Long fingers ran through vibrant orange strands of hair. Ichigo shrugged and trudged towards his kitchen.

He would cook himself some nice dish and everything would be alright. He probably had reacted so violently to the fantasy because he was hungry, right?

It turned out that cooking had effectively taken his mind off those _unpleasant _thoughts, as Ichigo called them. The dish consisting of rice and chicken in cream and mustard sauce had calmed him down, making it easier for him to think rationally.

Having finished, washed the dishes and put them back into the black cupboards, the young man went back to his previous activity consisting of walking in circles in his living room. The place was silent, dark yet flooded with light from the buildings outside.

Ichigo looked at the clock, now stating that it was 8:30 PM. It was too early for him to go to sleep but too late to go on a walk in a park where he could avoid all those love sick people. That is, unless he wanted to end up being attacked by some hobo.

"No thanks," he muttered.

Walking to his completely glass wall, he looked down at the throngs of couples crowding the streets of the city, way more than on normal evenings.

Ichigo felt so bored that it was as if his boredom weighted down on him. A strange nostalgia of the endless hours at school came up in his mind. Yes, this felt just like back then.

"God, I wish I could force someone to stay here with me…" he whined and looked through the contact list on his cell phone.

Deception pulled the corners of his lips down.

Besides his business contacts, he only had a few people he could call friends.

However they all probably would be busy tonight. Of course, because they actually had normal relationships which enabled them to do something besides eating pizza and watching gory TV shows on the day of love.

Ichigo scrolled down the numbers on his phone.

Renji would probably be with his monkey of a girlfriend Hiyori. Ichigo frowned at the thought of letting that rude and disgusting animal in his nice flat. Then there was Orihime who probably would be with Ulquiorra at some sappy romantic restaurant, eating weird stuff. Knowing her, she would've invited him to come with them, had she known that he was alone. But Ichigo didn't feel like being the candle holder for the odd couple. No thank you. The next person he thought about was Chad but he knew the man was certainly busy with Rukia.

And finally, there was Shinji. Shinji being a single gay man would've been perfect except for the fact that Shinji being Shinji, the blond male was probably celebrating Valentine's Day anyways. Everything was a reason to celebrate in Shinji's world. And god forbid that there weren't any thongs, confetti's and weird accessories in the mix.

Scrolling down his contacts, Ichigo's mood considerably darkened when a name popped up on the screen. No way he would ask _that _person.

Nope, there was no way in hell that he would call Ishida who was looking at him with lovesick puppy eyes everywhere he went. The guy was giving him the creeps and was absolutely annoying. Inviting him over now because he was bored would put all his efforts to reject the weird tailor and keep him at a distance to waste. And having spent so much time and energy doing just that convinced him more than enough to not even think of calling Ishida.

His fingers nimbly flitted across the screen as the man quickly locked his phone and threw it on his couch.

Flopping down on the plushy furniture two seconds later, he let out a curse as the edge of his phone dug in his side.

Ichigo pulled the annoying device from under his weight and put it down on his low table before going back to burying his face into his pillows, hoping to suffocate his boredom somehow.

The sound of his door bell ringing made him look up. He wondered who it could be. He was one hundred percent sure he hadn't invited anyone over. He would remember if he had set a thing with someone on this damned day. Yet, nobody had talked about dropping by at his' that night. Standing up, he slowly trudged towards the entrance.

A buzz of fear and adrenaline coursed through his veins when his mind provided that perhaps it was a crazy stalker who wanted to have five babies with him. God, he hoped he wouldn't have to move apartments as he really like this one.

Looking through the small hole, his sight met what looked like a hard chest clad in a black cotton T-shirt. This meant that it was either Renji or Chad waiting outside of his home. Surprised, Ichigo wondered what either of the two would be doing here instead of being with their girlfriends. He undid the chain lock and unlocked a second lock before pulling the door open.

What? Yes, he had two locks. Not because he was a paranoid sissy but because his fans were kinda crazy moms with lots of resources.

"What are you doing he-" he started asking, fake disinterest in his voice. However, the end of his sentence stayed in the back of his throat when his brown eyes caught sight of _blue_.

Too much BLUE.

_Blue._

_**Blue. **_

**Blue. **

**Blue. **

_**BLUE?!**_

God, this was way worse than crazy mom fans wanting to have babies with him!

Before his mind could even start to comprehend the situation he was in, his instincts kicked in at full force, making him slam the door shut. Unfortunately for him, he was not the only one with quick reflexes.

Ichigo heard a thump against the door, the hit so strong it vibrated through him before the door was slowly pushed back open.

_'Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,'_ the paling redhead chanted in his mind, '_how does _**he**_know my address?_' His body pressed against the heavy iron door with all the strength he could muster in this moment of pure panic.

"Relax, Ichi, I'm not going to kill you, goddamnit!" a grumbling voice, straining from the effort, reassured him from the other side of the door.

To prove their point, the person slowly stopped trying to force their way into the redhead's flat, relenting a bit but not enough for Ichigo to shut the door.

The 26-year-old reporter shook his head, trying to calm down, and let out a deep shaky breath before detaching himself from the cold surface and opening the door. Even though he had acted like a real pussy two seconds ago, the Japanese male hoped he could salvage a tiny speck of his masculinity by facing his enemy directly.

"What do you want from me, Mister Jaegerjaques?" he bit out aggressively, a deep scowl marring his features.

The other man looked at him, first surprised then chuckling a bit as he shook his head. Once again, only Ichigo's increasingly harsh and angry breath and the noises coming from the traffic filled the tense air around the two standing men.

Grimmjow's eyes scanned the lithe and toned body in front of him, an appreciative look on his face, before he tilted his head to the side and asked, his tone light and casual:

"Nice weather, no? So, you're not going out tonight?"

Ichigo felt like someone had just dropped a whole bucket of ice on him.

What?

'_What's with the fucking chatty tone and casual small talk?! Way too awkward!'_ he wanted to scream at the blue haired bane of his existence but he kept his emotions in check. He didn't want the other to think he had an influence on him.

He growled: "No, I'm not going out."

"You out of all people…" Grimmjow chuckled as a smirk spread on his handsome features.

"What do you mean, 'you out of all people'?" The Japanese redhead felt his cheeks turning into the color of his supposed namesake.

'_Bravo, Ichigo. Blushing like a virgin is certainly going to convince him that you don't give a fuck_,' his inner voice whispered poisonously. And as much as he wanted to deny it, the voice was right about that.

Brown eyes turned a hot and molten gold as they glared at cool yet enthralling blue pools, trying to read the emotions in them.

Grimmjow shrugged, putting on a casual air again:

"Oh, I don't know," he said, "You're only Ichigo Kurosaki, the most popular host in this country. Not to mention that you presented a whole show about Valentine 's Day dates. Nothing wrong with the picture of that famous TV host moping around in his flat alone like he hates the day of lovers more than anything in the world."

Ichigo silently gasped, his blush intensifying.

However the reason wasn't only the sexy images and memories of his shower time that came up inconveniently, but also the fact that Grimmjow dared to criticize his life. That fucking pissed him off. He was alright with people commenting on his job but his privacy was no one else's business. Especially not Grimmjow Jaegerjaques's.

His face blank, his back straightened and his tone as cold as ice, the usually fiery redhead said in a emotionless tone:

"And that has something to do with you because…?"

Again, Grimmjow looked a bit taken aback.

Would he have been in a better mood, Ichigo would've said the expression made the devilish handsome man look...cute. But being beyond pissed off, he knew that the man could wear a tutu and pink cat ears and still make him want to kill him. Geez, did the guy make his blood boil.

Grimmjow hesitated a bit, not wanting to have his head bitten of by his beautiful future lover before regaining his natural cockiness:

"Well, not that I'm going to complain, Ichi." He neared said man, smirking even more while savouring the redhead's reaction.

Now it was the TV reporter's turn to look taken aback.

Did Grimmjow just imply that…?

Before he could retort however, Grimmjow's strong arm – the same arm he had gripped in his wet fantasy – encircled his waist, pulling him against his own bigger body.

"Come on, Ichi, we're going out."

The way he said it, the way the words rolled over his tongue made the trapped TV reporter remember sequences of his earlier self-loving session vividly. Then, remembering who he was, he pressed his hands against the handsome cook's hard pectorals and replied:

"I am not…", he pushed but in vain, "going out tonight," another useless attempt to escape the firm embrace, "Especially not with _you._"

Grimmjow looked down at Ichigo, his icy eyes immobilizing him instantly before arching one fine blue brow and putting on a fake pout, the cook mockingly cried: "Oh, Ichi, the way you said it almost made me think that you hate me!"

Ichigo growled at him, making the blue haired man smirk even more.

Grimmjow loved this. He could play this game for hours at a time. Yet, as much as he wanted to he couldn't. He sighed and said in fake resignation:

"Fine, if you really don't want to go out with me…" Hope started blooming in honey brown eyes. Grimmjow's smirk returned at full force, totally feral:

"If you don't want to go out with me, _Ichi_, I'll just have to come in."

With that he pushed a shell-shocked Ichigo inside and followed closely in order not to kiss a door in the near future.

A few seconds ticked by before the redhead exploded, holding his head with both hands:

"I fucking can't believe it! How fricking shameless are you, you asshole?! Who do you think you are, you arrogant prick?!" he screamed at the other man even though it seemed like he yelled at his ceiling.

Meanwhile, Grimmjow closed the door, locking it carefully before waiting patiently as he watched Ichigo silently; He almost felt bad for intruding.

An apologetic smile formed on his face.

He raised his left hand, which carried a white and squared back with chic handles.

"For what it's worth, I brought some self-made dessert with me."

This made Ichigo halt all his movements.

The TV reporter fully faced the other man, cursing himself internally for calming down immediately at the mention of sweets.

Where was his restraint and self-discipline when he really needed it?

Grimmjow had won the lottery this time. He knew it and Ichigo's gold-brown eyes that flitted ever so often to the bag he'd brought only confirmed his thoughts:

Ichigo was a sucker for desserts.

And the extremely handsome blunet couldn't help but secretly hope he wasn't just a sucker for that…

**A/N: Okay, this was the fourth part, meaning the next upload will be the last one for this story! I hope you enjoyed it!**

**Thanks again to Patd06! **

**REVIEW PLEASE! (The more reviews I have, the sooner I'll upload… I'm just sayin' mouahahahahaha *cough*)**


	5. Man ist was man isst

**A/N: This is it, THE VERY LAST PART! And a pure lemon at that… A bad one, but still, 11 pages of smut. **

**THANK YOU A LOT FOR ALL THE REVIEWS! God, you guys are AH-MAZING!**

**Thank you a lot Patd06 for beta-ing, once again! :D**

**Please drop a REVIEW, especially since this story has come to an end. Thanks!**

**Enjoy!**

**You are what you eat:**

**Chapter Five: Man ist was man isst.**

Ichigo was having an internal fight with his inner voice, which was more like him begging his brain to not accept the blue eyed star as something else than an enemy. He completely forgot about the other man standing in front of him as an argument developed in his brain.

'_No, I can't let him in, he's going to ravage me!' _he whined like a child.

'_You will because for one he has cake, for two, you are bored and he's interesting and for three, he's extremely handsome and you need to get laid, Ichigo_,' the voice said manner-of-factly.

Before Ichigo could retort, it added:

'_Besides, your earlier fantasies and every dirty thought you unconsciously have make it kinda oblivious that you want him. And I should know, since I'm stuck in here.'_

'_He is going to ravage me!' _Ichigo replied, innerly crying. He knew he was exaggerating but anything not to accept that sexy beast.

His voice instantly answered:

'_Maybe, Ichigo, maybe._

_But remember: He brought cake. And I don't know if you caught that, __**but he prepared it himself. **__Now, even if he's a pro, that doesn't mean it didn't take up some of his time to do that. So stop complaining and take it like a man, for once!' _

Ichigo blinked. He was perplexed. Had he just being scolded by …_himself_?

Well, he did make a valid point. Grimmjow had gone through the bother of preparing something for him specifically and had come to his place when he was alone and on the verge of dying of boredom.

'_I guess I might as well give him a chance_,' the redhead thought before turning to Grimmjow and locking eyes with the latter.

His hand flew up to scratch the back of his head as he blushed a bit and muttered:

"About the rage explosion right before… I guess I'm sorry."

Grimmjow's eyes sparkled in victory and mischief though in his head, things were completely confused. Damn, that redhead was definitely going to keep him on his toes.

He smirked and turned his ear to the owner of the place:

"Pardon me, I didn't quite catch the last bit of what you said."

What?

He wasn't going to pass up the occasion to embarrass his handsome TV host a bit more, right?

When Ichigo started reacting to his words, Grimmjow didn't know whether to laugh or try to protect himself from the glare that followed.

"I said I'm fucking sorry for getting angry like that. And if you make me say that once again, I will make _you _sorry," Ichigo threatened. Then, he let go of all the tension in his body, sighing in defeat.

'_I look like a lunatic…_' he thought.

His feet shuffled on the black wooden floor as with a wave of his hand he told Grimmjow to follow him in. Then he motioned towards the black counter with tall black stools and told the blue haired man – who was currently having a victory party in his head – to sit down there.

The Japanese male opened a few cupboards, picking up two glasses, a shaker and other utensils before turning around to face Grimmjow who was observing him quietly.

"Is there any particular drink or flavor you like?" he asked.

Grimmjow really was tempted to answer something lewd but restrained himself from doing so as his beautiful prey seemed calm for once.

"You know how to prepare cocktails?" he asked curiously. Receiving a nod in return he hummed and said: "Well, if you can prepare good mojitos, I'm in." With a honest smile he added: "Please, Ichi."

The latter rolled his eyes at the nickname before turning around and starting to grab ingredients and mix them up.

Blue eyes watched the quick and precise motions in awe before wandering down the strong back and ending up on a firm looking ass. Feeling his primal urges waking up, the German cook quickly turned away and asked in a casual tone:

"So, what made you decide to be a TV host, Ichi?"

The younger man paused the fraction of a second before going back to slicing lemons.

"My mom used to be one and it looked fun so yeah."

Grimmjow hummed but left it at that since Ichigo didn't look like he was up for small-talk.

A heavy and awkward silence grew in the open kitchen. Shifting a bit on his feet, Ichigo turned around to glance at Grimmjow who was studying the pattern on the marbled counter.

'_Wow, he actually is really handsome and okay…when he isn't busy with annoying me._' The redhead mused, observing the other over his guessed he could at least try talking to the German man, now that he had stopped being an asshole.

"Uhm, so why did you decide to be a cook?" He asked. "And don't say that you do it to see the happy smiles on your customers' faces because I know that's not true."

Grimmjow let out a harsh and loud laugh before shaking his head in amusement. Then he stared at the back of Ichigo's head- since the latter had turned around so that the mojito wouldn't turn into a Bloody Mary – before standing up silently and approaching the busy TV host.

"Well, to be honest, and I'm kinda ashamed of it… I started having an interest in cooking because my friends told me chicks dig men who can cook."

Yes, that was the true reason. Grimmjow felt a bit embarrassed by that but it had indeed helped him get a lot of chicks, and guys when he realized he was gay. He couldn't figure out why he had admitted that to Ichigo, a stranger practically, yet the melodious and husky laughter he was rewarded with made it all better.

"Are you kidding me?" Ichigo asked incredulously, not looking away from his cutting board but laughing all the same.

Grimmjow shrugged, though the other wouldn't see that motion:

"Well, it's true. But for my defense I was 15 when I decided to take that path. Besides, I quickly started preferring cooking over chicks."

With that he took a final step that made him stand right behind Ichigo. His strong arms once again encircled Ichigo's waist, pressing his chest against Ichigo's tank top clad back. Grimmjow was by no means a pussy but he couldn't help but notice how their bodies fit together perfectly.

He could feel the shorter male tense and halt his movement.

"Grimmjow_**, what the fuck**_ are you doing?"

Grimmjow bowed his head, so that his lips touched the warm and tender skin of the slender neck offered to him as he answered:

"Well, don't mind me. I was just feeling a bit cold there."

Ichigo growled in frustration but since he knew very well that the other wouldn't budge, he just let out a long and angry breath before going back to his previous occupations.

Grimmjow watched the quick hands move about expertly, his eye brows slowly shooting up in amazement.

Damn, the kid knew what he was doing. Grimmjow just hoped he was so unhesitating for other things too.

Grimmjow kept his mouth close to Ichigo's throat, barely touching the sensitive skin as he asked:

"Where did you learn to do that?"

Ichigo tried repressing a shiver at the sensation of the blue devil's hot breath against his neck before answering:

"I worked at a bar during my college years. Had to manage to pay my rent somehow."

Again Grimmjow hummed before an idea struck him. He smirked devilishly, before one of his hands relaxed its hold on Ichigo's hips only to slip under the black wife beater. Ichigo gasped but decided not to comment because he felt very exc-, _no, exhausted_ by the blue haired beast's antics.

The older of the two grinned when he wasn't met with any resistance and moved his rough palm up and down the hard six pack, retracing the lines slowly before inching up to the other man's chest. God, he loved the Japanese man more and more. He could feel him shake in restraint and excitement all while mixing up Grimmjow's drink. He then tremblingly poured the translucent liquid in one of the two glasses, adding a few details before reaching wordlessly for other ingredients meant to become his own cocktail.

Slightly chapped lips caressed Ichigo's neck, biting and nipping the tender skin and making their owner sigh in contentment.

'_I really need it, I guess…,' _the male thought, already having given up any resistance.

The other man's slow and languid caresses were making every bitter feeling and tense muscled dissolve so why complain?

But as much as he wanted to, Ichigo couldn't make Grimmjow think he had won this easily. So, with the coldest and most even tone he could muster in this situation, he asked:

"Grimmjow, what makes you think I'm gay?"

His question was answered with another harsh laugh – sound that was doing wonderful things to his lower gut – before the deep voice resounded in his ear:

"Well, you didn't kill me on the set yesterday… and you don't seem like you want to complain right now, even if I do …" he chuckled and trailed off, his hands moving upwards to the perky nipples,"… this!"

He pinched the buds, making the surprised redhead's knees buckle and an abrupt moan leave his throat.

A blush quickly invaded tan skin.

'_What an asshole! Taking me by surprise like that_!', Ichigo yelled internally, his heart beating faster as it needed to provide blood for the lower parts of Ichigo's body.

He dropped his utensils on the cutting board with a clunk before swirling around and glaring at Grimmjow, who was still hugging him.

"You are such a prick!" the orange haired man growled.

Grimmjow smirked, taking in the beauty of the orange strands, fiery honey brown eyes, fine frowning eyebrows and scowling lips. He then grinned and said:

"Man ist was man isst, ne?"

The foreign language, the thick accent that rolled on his tongue like hot and burning brandy made Ichigo's excitement and lust roar in his gut, leaving his mind empty. He was unable to retort for a second, only able to look at Grimmjow's sparkling eyes and huge grin formed by a joke he was the only one to understand.

"What?" Ichigo asked, his voice sounding extremely dumb even to him.

"Well, as we say in my country, '_You are what you eat.' No?"_

Ichigo looked at him, confused before understanding dawned upon him. His blush gained a new assortment of shades of red as he stuttered "You're so nasty, Grimmjow!" and hastily turned back to finishing the preps of his cocktail. He quickly mixed and poured the drink into his own glass before asking his guest to detach himself from him.

Grimmjow pouted internally, thinking about how he had just let go the perfect chance to kiss Ichigo. Then he frowned and with great effort put his hands back at his sides.

'_God, he hasn't been here for more than 20 minutes and my nerves are almost burned out._' Ichigo whined. He then went to the living room, Grimmjow following closely with the bowl containing the dessert in his hand.

Setting everything down on the low table, he sat down and waited for Grimmjow to do the same. Grimmjow did and simultaneously opened the white box, revealing a small and delicious looking cake covered in whipped cream.

On the white, fluffy cover a swirl of what looked like strawberry sauce had been drawn.

Ichigo noticed the knife, two spoons and paper plates briefly but about every bit of his attention was directed to the delicacy displayed in front of him. He was so absorbed by it that he almost missed Grimmjow's comment:

"Be careful, you're going to drool on it. It's cute and I wouldn't mind having your spit in my mouth but not on the cake, okay?"

Ichigo blinked before straightening up and, his brown eyes still not leaving the dessert, he asked:

"What kind of cake is it?"

"A strawberry shortcake."

This made Ichigo frown and glare at Grimmjow, who once again was completely lost. He really couldn't keep up with the redhead's train of thoughts and emotions.

So, two seconds ago Ichigo was all happy and drooling over his cake and now he was directing a glare worth the heat of a thousand suns at Grimmjow? Like, what?

Tan, lithe and toned arms crossed in front of a muscled chest as Ichigo rolled his eyes and said bitterly:

"Ha-Ha very _**funny**_, Grimmjow."

"What?" The other was still as dumbfounded as before.

"Come on, as if you didn't know that my name could mean 'Strawberry' in Japanese – which it does _not_ – which is why you prepared a _strawberry _shortcake. To tease me**, again**."

Grimmjow breathed out silently in relief, thanking the gods he hadn't done anything bad for once before he smirked deviously:

"Well, I didn't know it, to be honest with you… But now, I do. Thank you, _my strawberry._"

The look on said berry's face was priceless but before the kid could attack him, Grimmjow held his hands up and said:

"Just kidding. I really didn't know."

He halted, making sure the TV host could see the sincere look in his blue eyes, before he said with a small smile:

"Come on, let's eat, okay?"

The cake eating was relatively uneventful… except that Ichigo was slowly reaching culinary heaven and Grimmjow restraining himself from jumping the man.

The blue haired man knew how to control his desires, sure.

Seeing his interest enjoying his self-prepared cake with a look of pure bliss on his face and moaning every time a blob of whipped cream and cake made it past his reddened lips made it really difficult for him not to unleash the beast raging in his pants, though.

The German man's mind was already slightly buzzing from the delightful drink the owner of the apartment had prepared but the lust and need inside him almost made his head spin. He knew that he wouldn't be able to keep away from Ichigo for very much longer. His growing erection was rubbing against the cotton of his jeans and was begging him to already fuck Ichi.

His brain was resorting to dirty methods, like images of him pounding into the orange haired male's tight ass harshly, making him moan like a slut.

However the blue haired cook kept his hands to himself. He didn't want to disturb Ichigo while he was eating for one and for two, he felt like the other would have a heart attack because he seemed to have forgotten everything about the creator of his current source of pleasure.

As if on cue, Ichigo's previously closed eyes cracked open, his pools like molten lava as he lazily smiled at Grimmjow:

"Damn, you make the best cakes. It's fricking delicious, there are no words to describe how much so!"

Excitement and pride bubbled in Grimmjow's chest – making him forget his raging boner momentarily – as he returned the smile ferociously.

"Well, of course, _I _prepared of after all."

Ichigo rolled his eyes and stabbed a strawberry; his gaze absentmindedly connected with Grimmjow's burning blue ones. A fine blue eyebrow arched incredulously.

'_Wow, he's so lost that he stares right in my eyes while eating?' _

Not that he minded, to be honest. His gaze followed the trip the red fruit made from the plate to a kissable wet mouth that parted slightly to let pearly white teeth bite in the juicy looking sweet. Indeed, the strawberry had been juicy as hell since a rivulet of juice squirted out of the fruit when bitten, slowly trickling down a tan neck.

And that was when Grimmjow lost it.

His plate dropped on the table with a clutter, making Ichigo wake up from his cake-induced high a little bit. His clouded eyes turned into round marbles when he saw a blur of blue filling his vision.

"What the-AAH?!" he yelled but the other's hard body knocked him off the couch, turning him silent.

He looked up, thankful that he had actually finished his cake, to see a very handsome Grimmjow staring at him with a feral glint in his eyes. Said man was sitting on his legs, pinning the other down under his weight. He took away Ichigo's spoon and plate then bent down until the tip of his straight nose met the flustered redhead's one.

"Sorry Ichi, but you can't just make all those sexy noises and expect that I'll keep calm."

Said man felt extremely intimidated by the serious and dominating look on the other's face and Grimmjow could feel that. He was totally going to use that to his advantage.

His eyes looked straight into brown eyes that revealed an equally large need for more before they shut, marking Ichigo's accord.

With that, Grimmjow closed the gap between their lips brutally, kissing, nipping and biting Ichigo's sweet lips. The handsome TV host whole-heartedly threw himself in the act as he couldn't help but enjoy the talented lips and hands that caressed him under his wife beater.

Soon, tongues were added to the kiss, filling the silent living room with grunts and moans. The slowly quickening rubbing of clothes could be heard too.

Ichigo felt like he was going to die of pleasure. Grimmjow was currently kissing and sucking on the tender skin of his neck, making him groan and twist his fingers into the other's silky blue locks.

God, Grimmjow was good. And not having gotten laid for a long time only added to the amount of desire that grew in Ichigo's lower gut. The friction created by the motion of their hips was making Ichigo's boner strain. He could feel Grimmjow's rock hard arousal through the fabric of their clothes and from what he sensed, he was pretty sure it was not a small size. This only made his heart beat with even more anticipation.

Grimmjow quickly discarded his own shirt, pulling it up by the hem. His ripped abs and built chest were slowly revealed to Ichigo, the latter not able to keep his hands from trailing down the golden skin. He suddenly felt very ashamed of his own muscles, which were nice but more of a swimmer's type. Besides, the body displayed in front of him was just like in his fantasy. Except that he could see a fine trail of blond hair leading from the belly button to a place still hidden by jeans.

He chuckled, making the passion driven Grimmjow frown.

"What?" the man asked in a gruff tone, smirk forgotten since he had started ravaging his beautiful prey.

"So, you're not naturally blue haired, huh," Ichigo stated between pants. "Well, it makes sense of course because there's no way you could be –"

Grimmjow rolled his eyes before going back to ravaging the talkative male's mouth, effectively shutting him up.

"Ichi… I think that is the least of our concern right now, no?" He growled in a husky voice, smirking a bit though his eyes were still serious and lust-laden.

He then removed Ichigo's shirt, humming appreciatively at the sight of lithe and firm muscles before going back down and trailing down the expanse of skin, alternatively biting, kissing and licking the slightly sweaty body writhing under him.

Blue eyes then connected with molten brown ones. Meanwhile sharp pearl white teeth teased the band of the jogging trousers Ichigo was wearing, making their wearer shiver.

"Grimmjow, come on…" he demanded, shifting his hips a bit.

A full blown smirk spread on the German's handsome features as he started pulling down the soft and thick fabric.

Looking down he chuckled breathlessly:

"Looks like someone is going commando tonight, huh?"

Ichigo blushed, realizing that he had indeed forgotten to put on boxers before he scowled at the taller man lying on him. Seeing how things were going along, him wearing boxers or not didn't really change anything.

Grimmjow, while Ichigo was pouting, shook his head before taking the head of the Japanese male's erection in his mouth, making the other buckle his hips in shock and pleasure.

"Fuck Grimm, warn me next time!"

But the blunet didn't listen, instead bobbing his head, engulfing Ichigo's length in his hot mouth. His tongue swirled around the throbbing head before licking the underside of the redhead's cock. The cook could hear pants and groans come from Ichigo, and felt the latter's hands push and tug his locks, urging him to go faster.

After a couple of minutes, Grimmjow halted his administrations to Ichigo's body, much to the TV host's dismay, before standing up and picking up his lover princess style. He then kissed him passionately before whispering against bruised lips:

"Which way's your bedroom?"

A shudder passed through the highly excited male as he pointed at his room. Clothes were pushed aside as the short distance between the living room and bedroom was covered. Only the short gasps and unbridled lust filled the dark room which was only illuminated by the lights of other buildings.

Grimmjow threw Ichigo on the large bed – making him squeak in the process – before taking off his own jeans, revealing white boxers covering a straining erection. He then crawled on the bed, slowly and gracefully – like a panther – towards his prey who was watching him with desire in his eyes.

Once again, they made out for a few minutes, Ichigo's leg rubbing against Grimmjow's length and inversely, the German man jerking off his handsome orange haired lover. Not too soon, long and rough fingers found their way against Ichigo's firm lips, silently demanding to be coated in saliva. Watching the fiery Japanese execute his unspoken order all while fixing his eyes on him made the need in Grimmjow's chest even stronger, if that was even possible.

Deeming the fingers lubricated enough, the cook took them out of the other's hot cavern before letting them trail down to the puckered hole that was waiting for him.

A finger, closely followed by a second one, was inserted and met with resistance before being sucked in completely. Grimmjow smirked when he noticed how tight his lover was. Oh boy, he was going to enjoy tonight.

Ichigo, on the other hand was whining inwardly, not used to having something wiggling around in his rear anymore. He had been inactive for so long, maybe a year or more and had never even thought of doing that himself. Now he wished he had because if only two fingers were having this effect on him, he could not imagine what the well-endowed part of Grimmjow would do to him.

Moans and groans escaped his lips as he frowned, enjoying the friction and idea of Grimmjow's fingers in him.

Lust-laden brown eyes stared at the dominant male, taking in the look of pure desire and wild need on the man's face. Even though he seemed to be entertained just by touching the redhead, the latter felt like he had to offer something to the blue haired man. So, shifting around gracefully and momentarily making Grimmjow hesitate in his motions, Ichigo moved to sit next to Grimmjow's muscular tight, both shoulders touching it as he slowly pulled the white cloth away. Grimmjow looked at him, one of his hands buried in orange locks as he gently pushed his lover towards his weeping boner while his other hand went back to work, eliciting moans from the sun-kissed ginger.

Grimmjow sucked in a harsh breath as Ichigo went to work. Blood was pooling in his gut even more and his head started spinning from the pleasure the Japanese man's silky tongue was giving his shaft. As Ichgio started bobbing his head up and down faster, the German man's rough fingers pressed in and out of the perfect ass that was Ichigo's. However, feeling like he was going to come soon, Grimmjow deemed that he had had enough foreplay for the naight. His fingers stopped and left the hot cavern, making Ichigo sigh and complain a bit.

Grimmjow pulled back, detaching himself from the sexy TV host before with a quick flick of his hand he smeared the precome and saliva from Ichigo's amazing blowjob all over his length. He added a bit of saliva – since he really hated lubricants – before pressing his warm and throbbing erection against Ichigo's waiting hole.

The orange haired male sucked in a breath, bracing himself for the large intrusion that was about to come. And it did, indeed. A burning sensation invaded his body as he cursed in his mind:

'_Fuck, this hurts like a bitch!'_

At the same time, Grimmjow said through grinded teeth:

"Goddamn, Ichi, you're so fricking tight! Are you a virgin or something? Relax, you're killing me."

Ichigo tried doing as told, his eyes looking at Grimmjow's concentrated scowl as he let out harsh and aggressive pants. The tan Japanese man felt another wave of desire and affection flood him. The man hovering over him was breathtakingly handsome. And the soft white lights coming from the outside only made him more perfect.

The German cook's hands were gripping Ichigo's hips as he restrained himself from pounding into the tight heat engulfing his length and almost driving him mad.

He felt Ichigo relax slightly and opening his eyes, saw the redhead grin at him sexily before thrusting his hips against Grimmjow's boner.

This made Grimmjow lose his mind.

He had known that Ichigo had some hidden sex beast somewhere in himself but this was more than what he could have wished for. Only a couple of minutes after the initial thrust Ichigo was already sitting on top of Grimmjow, forcing himself up and down the older male's length.

Moans, pants and the sound of two sweat slicked bodies meeting again and again were the only sounds in the room. Both men felt extremely hot, pleasure reaching its highest point as Grimmjow's tip slammed again and again against Ichigo's prostate with a bruising force and speed.

After what felt like a second and an eternity at the same time, both reached the final line before their 'goal'. They had switched positions a few times already and now, Grimmjow was taking his lover doggy style, gripping slender hips and watching Ichigo arch his back in pleasure with every new thrust. Sweat dripped down the hot German man as his length disappeared and reappeared from Ichigo's wet entrance at a crazy tempo. The pleasure building in his gut was about to explode and throw him over the edge so he grabbed an equally as high Ichigo's weeping dick, harshly rubbing and squeezing it, making its owner moan even louder.

Finally, Ichigo felt his orgasm implode inside of him, his semen shooting out of his dick on the covers of his bed. Grimmjow roared when Ichigo's tight walls clenched and forced his own release out.

They continued rocking back and forth slowly riding out of their orgasm before Grimmjow pulled out his now softening cock and collapsed on top of Ichigo, his hard and heaving chest covering the other like a blanket.

Ichigo moaned a bit before tiredly closing his eyes, contentment and satisfaction making his insides turn mushy.

'_This was amazing! Even if it was with Grimmjerk…'_

With that thought he cuddled into Grimmjow's broad and welcoming arms, falling asleep with a small smile on his face. A small smile that was mirrored on the exhausted blue haired cook's own features as he joined Ichigo in a deep sleep.

Ichigo woke up to the sound of a door closing. His eyes slowly cracked open as he turned to lie on his back, all limbs stretched out, making him look like a starfish.

The black cotton sheets partly covered his body, and made a ruffling sound when he moved to sit up. As he did so, the sore yet kind of nice pain in his rear made its presence known, allowing the events of the past night to invade the TV reporter's numbed mind.

He blushed profusely as the scenes became precise and detailed before noting that he was actually alone in his bed.

What?

So what if he was a bit slow in the morning?

His eyes glanced at the alarm clock, seeing it was 6:07 AM. A sigh left his lips as relief flooded his chest: He was going to be on time for his work.

Then realization dawned upon him: It was only 6 o'clock in the morning and his German beast of a lover had already left?

His stomach turned into a knot before he tried to convince himself that it was nothing:

'_It's better this way. I hope he'll finally leave me alone now that he's gotten what he wanted from me._'

The thought left a bitter taste in his mind but kept him from being even more disappointed.

The Japanese male slapped his cheeks before standing up, deciding to get ready for the day. He walked into his bathroom slowly and washed his face, noting that he looked beaming even though he wasn't smiling.

'_Guess I really needed that_,' he thought before taking a quick shower and putting on his clothes.

He then left to go to the kitchen, hoping to calm his growling stomach.

As he passed the black counter where Grimmjow had sat the evening before, he saw a plate full of scrambled eggs, bacon and a small salad accompanied by a glass of what he guessed was freshly pressed juice and a small note.

Curious and absolutely starving, the male walked to the table, sat down on one of the stools and picked up the note that said

'_See you soon, Ichi… Sooner that you'd think. _

_-Grimmjow.'_

Ichigo frowned a bit, confused, but could help but feel a giddy bubble of happiness growing in his chest. Rereading the note and looking at the breakfast the blue haired man had prepared for him specifically, a swarm of proverbial butterflies fluttered around in his empty stomach.

Without further ado, the TV host started shovelling the food into his mouth, enjoying every bit of the simple yet delicious food. He guessed only Grimmjow was talented enough to turn such a plain thing into a delicacy.

While he was pondering over the meaning of the notes, the shrill sound of his cell phone broke through the silence, making him jolt. The man stood up and picked up his phone, clicking the green button without looking at the user ID.

'_Maybe it's Grimmjow…_' he hoped, biting his lower lip.

However, instead of the sexy, deep, gruff voice, a loud obnoxious one pierced through his ear:

"Kurosaki-kuuuuun, good morning! How are you?"

Ichigo felt anger shooting up in his system.

"What the fuck, Urahara?! What do you want from me?" He yelled at his phone, trying not to destroy it with his clenched fist.

The other man laughed airily before asking in turn:

"Were you expecting someone else, Kurosaki-kuuun? A secret lover I should know and tell your father about?"

His teasing tone only grated poor Ichigo's nerves more as he tried to calm down.

After breathing slowly through his nose and counting to ten he said:

"None of your business. Anyways, why did you call to begin with? It's seven in the morning and you're going to see me in less than two hours."

"Well, I just wanted to tell you about the success of the show you and Jaegerjaques-kun did together for Valentine's Day. Our audience rate shot up and we got thousands of calls of your fans, saying they loved the chemistry between you and our cooking star."

Ichigo now remembered that the show they had filmed the other day had been aired yesterday.

"Yeah, thank you but you could've told me that at work," he said in a stern voice.

"Well yes…" the crazy director hesitated. "There is something else though."

'_Oh hell, what is it this time_?' Ichigo wondered. He didn't like his boss's tone. Not at all.

"Well, you see, Kurosaki-kun, our spectators loved you and Grimmjow so much that the company decided to create a new cooking show where Jaegerjaques-kun would cook along with you… Wonderful idea, isn't it?!" The man finished cheerfully.

"No."

"I… I'm not sure I heard right, Kurosaki-kun. Can you repeat please?" Urahara said, dreading the way things were about to become.

Ichigo's scowl deepened before he repeated:

"I said 'no'. I will not work with Grimmjow. Ever. Again."

The blond man on the other end of the line chuckled nervously and confessed:

"You see, Kurosaki-kun… The thing is that Blue-kun already accepted this morning and…," –he audibly gulped – " Ialreadyacceptedforyou."

Urahara could hear Ichigo's breath stopping harshly. Dread and anxiety weighted on him as he waited for his nephew's reply.

"You what?" Ichigo asked, making Urahara flinch with the coldness of his tone.

"I uhm… accepted for you, Kurosaki-kun…" the usually goofy man confessed guiltily before adding "I think it will be very good for your popularity."

Once again, he flinched, as if trying to protect himself from Ichigo's eventual outburst. However, the redhead stayed silent before finally saying, every word a virtual drop of acid on Urahara:

"I'm going to hang up now. And I better not hear your annoying voice before tomorrow. If you dare to approach me during work today, I will bash your skull in, boss or not. Got that?"

Before Urahara could reply, he hung up, throwing his phone on the sofa and sighed again as he headed to the bathroom again.

_'Seriously, the things that I have to go through because of this job…'_ he muttered.

God, he hoped Grimmjow would at least try to restrain himself while they were working… In private however…

Well, they had to burn all those calories from the delicious food somehow, right?

**A/N: And this is it! **

**I really enjoyed writing this story but unfortunately, having no plot in mind, I'll leave it at that. **

**THANK YOU**** A LOT FOR ALL THE REVIEWS, FAVES, FOLLOWS, ETC!**

**Thank you to Patd06 too, for proof-reading! **

**SO AS THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER, COULD YOU ****PLEASE REVIEW**** AND GIVE ME FEEDBACK? Depending on the number of responses, I **_**might **_**throw in a bonus lemon… ;) **


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